Hammer in a China Shop
by Empty Promise
Summary: The background to why Robert Hammer was sent to Everon.


**Straubing ,West Germany January 1985**

The cool winter air peppered itself over everything in the morning, leaving trails of "smoke" after every sentence, rubbing his hands together, Sergeant Robert Hammer looked over the rolling hills and flat open fields of the German countryside, what could even well be the grounds of another world war soon enough.

"Not the best grounds for tanks" he said aloud, a whisping trail of steam being left in the words wake. He shook the visions of warfare from his mind, mostly old old war movies from when he was a kid re-runing on TV as he looked over his map.

"Our objective should be over the next hill here" he said into the mic on his helmet "Forwards, 800 meters"

"Yes sir, forward 800 meters" the driver replied in monotone voice as the metal monster that was the M1 Abrams Main Battle Tank's engine roared, and the treads squeal like pigs at the slaughter house as it began lumbering forwards. Hammer buttoned the hatch and slid down to his commanders sight, bushes and a few solitary trees dotted the landscape ahead of them.

With a top speed of 45 Miles and hour, the 60 ton monster crushed all in it's path, engulfing bushes under it's treads and knocking trees to the ground, nothing in it's path stood a chance of survival and all in it's wake was left with the telltale tread marks of the US Armored Cav. "Hey Sarge, how bout some tunes"? the gunner asked on his mic, the noise of the moving tank drowning out anything else. Robert knew this wasn't a serious exercise, just get from point A to point B, easy as pie.

"I don't see any issue" he smiled, the Gunner nodded, placing an extra mic on top of a walkman, within moments, the crew's ears were filled with the sounds of home, american music..

 _"i was walking, down a one way street...just ah looking, for someone to meet, one woman...who is looking for a m-m-mannnn"_

The sweet voice of Huey Lewis filled the cabin of the armored beast, the men singing along.

"Do you believe in love? Do you believe its true"?

Looking through his sight, bobbing his head to the beat, Robert smiled wide _"Sometimes the army can fun_ he thought to himself. The M1 plowed through a large drift of snow, sending the mass of white over the tank, blocking Hammer's commanders sight and view windows, leaving him blind. Robert felt the tank shake as it began to climb the hill ahead of them, he spoke a command into his mic "Driver, stop" and braced himself for the quick jolt as the treads rolled to a halt.

He felt no change, the tank kept driving. Driving blind, he assumed the driver's view was also covered, but training was to keep going forewards in such an event, the commander would order a halt if needed. But he couldn't _hear_ the command due to the music and the loud noise of the tank's engine. Standing up, he popped open the hatch and looked outside.

He was greeted by a small encampment with tents and a few jeeps in a row...that they were heading right for! He ducked back down into the tank, pushing past the gunner and loader, the confused men giving him looks as he began kicking the driver in the shoulder as hard as he could muster in such a tight space. The man jerked and looked at him, removing his helmet and music filled mic.

"STOP THE TANK" Robert screamed right as the metal giant crashed over the first jeep with a loud _crunch_ as it rolled over another and another...

...

"GOD DAMNIT" Colonel Francis Holland yelled as the M1 came to a halt, in it's wake what remained of four M151 jeeps, now crushed and mangled beyond recognition or repair. The tank halted after running through them, and the hatch popped free, revealing a dark skinned man, the commander most likely, with a sheepish look in his face.

"Sir...i must have misread the grids on my...map" he began muttering out loud, looking back and forth at the colonel and the jeeps and holding up a folded map in his hand.

"I DO NOT want to hear anything! Get out of that tank THIS INSTANT"! he screamed, Hammer nodded, climbing out of the hatch and sliding down the front of the tank, and jumping off the front, onto the ground. His heels hadn't landed fully as the colonel grabbed him by the collar and pushed his face inches from the Hammer's

"Do you know the unit cost of ONE M151 Jeep"? he half yelled through gritted teeth into Hammer's face.

"No...sir i don't" he answered, not much else he could do. A small crowed of troops had grown around them now

"Well four of them our worth a LOT, more then your career son" he added letting the tanker free of his grasp. The colonel turned and walked away, fuming ever still. He'd make sure that...insult to uniform got sent to some ass end outpost, the one thing the US Army had _Plenty_ of. Entering his tent, he looked at a file sitting on his table

 _Another Everon_ _personnel request_ he thought to himself, that damn island was always short of men...

An idea began brewing in his head. He grabbed a pen...

...

 **Over the North Sea**

Robert Hammer sighed as he looked at the few other troopers on the CH-47 Transport helicopter. Only a few, and not one had good conduct on his record. He'd been reasighed to some island called Everon, he guessed it was a "shitlist" of a place, for people who had gotten on someone's bad side, whatever the reason, he had his doubts he'd see any action there.

 _Hell, maybe it'll be good to be on a "safe" post for a while_ he thought closing his eyes, to catch some sleep...

If only he'd know how wrong he was.


End file.
